Page 57 of Trust No One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Raine

Monday, October 19, 2026, 12:00 noon

I turned off the main road, the ache in my upper back sharpening as I passed Hale House’s brick pillars. Turns out strangulation can mess up the vertebrae in your upper spine.

The gravel drive snaked past a line of ancient oaks, their branches knitting overhead like dark ribs.

As I crested the hill, I spotted a dark sedan parked in front of Hale House. I recognized the car—Ken’s.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. I parked beside his driver’s-side door. Phone pressed to his ear, he stared off toward a grove of trees. Looking toward me, he grinned and motioned that he’d be another moment.

Show up unannounced. Keep me waiting. So Ken.

Out of the car, I rolled stiff shoulders and strode up to the front door, not glancing back. I wasn’t in the mood to be polite or second-guess motives.

“Hey!” Ken shouted as he followed. “No hug?”

I faced him. “Out of hugs, Ken. What do you want?”

He always looked good. Hair styled with crisp edges, nails cut neat and buffed, suits that molded to his fit body. He would age well, I realized. Even at eighty, he’d find a way to stand out.

Ken ducked his head, his gaze upward like a contrite child’s. “I’m concerned about you.”

“Ken, please, it’s been a long couple of days. Cut to the chase.”

“You were attacked three weeks ago. I’m worried about you.”

His charm offensives were indeed a work of art.

“Pete is posting bail.” His voice was flat, his gaze lingering on my face.

“When?”

“In a few hours.”

Fear clawed at my frayed nerves. “Bail was set at a half million dollars.”

“You know how the system works.”

I did. I’d worked it for years. “I should’ve been notified immediately.”

Ken took a step closer, the faint scent of woodsy aftershave clinging to his jacket. “Again, the system doesn’t always work.”

My gaze skimmed past him. The headache pounded harder.

Hands slid into his pockets. “This wasn’t meant to be a gotcha moment, Raine. I thought you should know.”

“You could’ve called.”

“Bigger than a phone conversation.”

“I’d have handled it.”

His grin widened. “Maybe. But I thought you deserved more.”

“I don’t from you.”